Empty halls of a long abandoned, desolate city. That was all she could perceive.

Every step that Azera took was frantic, barely holding her balance as she bolted through hallways that seemed to repeat endlessly. Her vision was frayed, hazy beyond a few metres. To be so confined in what she could perceive was extremely unsettling.

Not nearly as unsettling as the spectre of blazing light that was pursuing her through those halls. A pale hand reaching out from an aura of near-white. Reaching for her, a distorted voice calling her name.

Her breath was rasping. The weight around her was staggering, the air itself was thin. Wherever the city was located, it was at a high altitude, and lacked pressurization. Something more was hampering her connection to the Force, further driving her body into falling short of what she needed to stay ahead.

A thin atmosphere, coupled with a thick dampening field around her. Trapped between the suffocation of suppression, and the suffocation of the void.

"Grey! Grey help me! Please!"

There was no answer to her pleading. Only more indistinguishable walls, floors and ceilings. The only thing that told her she wasn't going in circles was the gradually growing sound of howling wind. Some kind of escape from the maze she was trapped in.

"Make it stop! Please!"

She nearly fell to her knees as another spectre, identical and opposite to the one pursuing her, emerged from the path ahead.

A mass of pure darkness, from which stretched a bright red hand, marked in ink. Also calling to her in a voice she could not distinguish. It filled her with as much terror as the other. The urge to run and flee, to shield her mind from the poisonous words being whispered to her.

Corridors of clean and smooth metal gave way to the unshielded walls of the world beyond the city. Exposed pipes, wires and other networks that made up the lifeblood of a structure. The howling wind was now strong enough to reach over her face, press the grey robes closer to her figure as she pushed further towards the open.

Behind her, as her vision began to recover from the dampening surrounding her, she could see both spectres in pursuit. Light and dark chasing her down to her only means of escape, side by side. Both desperate to take hold of her, and pull her away.

Both calling out her name, the words starting to coalesce in her mind.

"I'm not her! I'm not going back!"

Her stumbling feet suddenly lost track of the groaning metal grates she had been running across. She barely had the reflexes to grab onto the railing as she fell with a scream, moving further out of the field holding her vision down.

She was dangling out over a true abyss. Wherever the city was, there was no ground beneath her at all. All that connected her to the physical was the trembling grip of both hands around that thin metal rod. And her pursuers close at hand.

Trust me, Azera. Trust in the Force. Let go.


Azera came out of her meditation with a sharp breath, clutching at her stomach as it twisted itself up over the vivid sensations.

Watching from the corner, Maarani lifted her head in concern.

"Another vision?"

Azera took more breaths, and a pained swallow to feel ready to speak. "If it is, then I apparently have reason to fear both the light and dark of the Force." Her breath slowed as the shock of the dream wore off further, easing back from its physical toll. "I don't think either of us will make much sense of it in the time we have. How long until-"

The question was answered rather curtly by the cell door sliding open. At the top of the stairs, Visas stood in waiting, along with the sizable escort of Jedi and Republic soldiers.

Maarani reached into her pocket to toss Azera the hair tie she had brought from the Vastes, along with her white and red-trim outfit. The tie itself was the last memento of a different Azera. At the end of the day ahead, she wanted it to be the last she would ever see of that side of her lover.

"Let's not keep them waiting."

With one more inhale for calm, Azera stood up while reaching around to tie her hair back. A deep shift back into the past for her, but a needed one. There was a vital point she wanted to make to the entire Republic through it.


Outside, the usual busy air of Coruscant's skylanes were empty. All traffic had been directed away from the entire area surrounding their path from the cell to the Senate building. The entire surface was on military lockdown for the next ten minutes.

The procession of mixed guards were moving underneath the deployment of a ray shield all the way to the armoured transport.

Republic snipers were overlooking the entire block. Where there wasn't a long-range weapon, there was someone scanning the area instead, leaving nothing outside the view of a scope.

On the ground level, the tension reached its high point for both Maarani and Azera when they boarded the transport. It was a ride that would take less than five minutes total, but it was still by far the most vulnerable and dangerous five minutes they would have to endure for the entire day.

Their very arrival a week ago had proven that having Republic cruisers in orbit wasn't enough to stop one sufficiently committed ship from reaching the lower atmosphere. Regardless of how defended the transport was, it still had to make the gruelling flight across several deep chasms. Any kind of engine failure or damage would be the end of everything.

In the company of so many strangers, neither felt any inclination to say a word to the other, even telepathically. Even Visas' silence felt more pronounced than usual, no longer bemused in her observation of everyone around her. The smile was there, but it was definitely plain by contrast.

Nothing felt more relieving than the sensation of the transport setting down on solid ground again. They still had a long walk to the cells below the Senate chambers, but as with the area surrounding the detention centre, they were far more capable of keeping the entire space secure.

The lack of words was only broken when the guard procession drew closer to the heavy doors leading into the cell block. Through the glow of the shield, Maarani easily made out the familiar uniforms of the Luka Sene.

"Why are they here? I thought we agreed they were going to stay out of security detail."

Visas tilted her head at that, not quite nodding to the question. "They agreed to perimeter duty, after pushing for cell watch. I think you will agree this is the better of the two, Tegama."

"I'm not letting them take her. There's nothing more to it."

"It may not come to a fight. We may yet be surprised by what the Force brings to this day."

It didn't stop Maarani from glaring at each of the semi-familiar faces as she walked past, keeping her arm tightly around Azera the entire time. With Azera herself in nullifying shackles, she was in every way unable to defend herself.

Outside the designated cell, Bastila and Utan were waiting, with Jayden and a number of Mandalorians not far behind. The closest Azera had to legal counsel, and the closest she had to neutral guards. Mixed in them were navy officers and Republic marines. Carth's final hour efforts had at least brought in some results after all.

At last, Maarani felt remotely comfortable enough to let the worst of her tension loose. The arm slid around from Azera's shoulders, drawing down to her cool hands, bringing them up a little into a knitted hold.

"I'm going to be there with you, I promise. Whatever I have to do, this is not the end."

"Tee, as much as I want to argue with you for being an incredibly dramatic bleeding heart…" Azera tried pursing her lips, despite the old damage to them. Instead, she tilted her head rather unsubtly towards Bastila. "We won't change anything by playing into their worst assumptions. I'd ask you to not go ballistic, but you're not listening to what I say anymore."

"Az-"

"I mean it, Tee. You're fixated on how you want things to go. So, if you do inevitably go off the handle, don't do anything we can't fix later. And if nothing else, don't kill anyone."

Maarani's lips tightened, grinding harshly against her teeth. "I'm not going to go berserk just to get my way. If people get hurt, they have it coming. That's all I can promise."

"Then keep to it. There are a lot of people here today. Everyone will be watching both of us. This is where we start making the galaxy better, not worse."

There was nothing left between them to be said. Maarani couldn't bring herself to argue more, her cynicism having run her dry. She needed the rest of her strength for the coming hours.

Her hands gripped tighter onto Azera's as she brought them up closer. Last night's intimacy didn't feel like enough, and even in that moment, she was still left wanting for more.

"This is where I make the moment awkward with some dumb romantic phrase, right?"

"You have a habit of doing that, yeah."

Maarani looked downward, thinking harder about how to avoid doing that. No answer came to her.

"I know we went over this yesterday, how we're not remotely good people. Do you think that will always be the case? Can we ever actually start over, without all the past pain?"

"We're defined by the past, Tee. Whether we embrace it, reject it. Promote it or erase it." Azera moved her hands up through Maarani's, cupping her chin as much as she could with her hands still bound. "I told Carmen that coming here was because I wanted your forgiveness. I'm going to earn it, from you alone. Because whatever the blood between us, I've already forgiven you."

It left Maarani speechless, her face sinking into Azera's hands a little more as the rest of her felt ready to give out.

Azera kept on that bit further. One last assurance to try and stall the impending storm she could feel around her.

"Guilt can drive even the most stable of Jedi into a madness that sees them consumed by the dark side. I know that for a fact. I've used it as a tactic. You won't master the Force if you're letting it tear you apart. Don't abandon all guilt and become a sociopath. And don't let guilt eat away at who you are. You can't save everyone, and not everyone deserves to be saved."

"Is that part of what you're planning to say, then?"

"After a fashion. Crowds don't want deeply thought out insights and inspirations. They want memorable taglines that spell things out for them. That's what I'll give when the time comes."

Azera lowered her hands back down again, letting them draw towards Maarani's for another entwine. "The Force is with us, Tee. I can't see the paths ahead, but we are going to be there for each other on the other side. Don't turn away from it."

"Don't turn away from a path neither of us know anything about?" Maarani's sarcasm was purely to lighten the mood as it had grown more intense again, no longer trying to belittle Azera's insight. "When we come out the other side of this, ask me about Bou'omoa."

"I haven't heard of that. I'd ask right now, but you just said to wait."

Maarani smiled with a hint of awkwardness, starting to lower her hands back down at last. "Bou'omoa, Bou'hada, Bou'ikha. You'll figure out what comes after by then. We've still got the state of Yuri to get through."

Feeling that it was finally time to enter the cell, Azera dropped her hands fully with a jokingly defeated look. "I really should brush up on my spoken Ryl. I feel like Yuri means something else from what you're thinking of."

"No cheating. This is my way of making sure you get through this. You'll never be content without knowing what I'm talking about."

Azera shook her head with further bemusement as she stepped backwards into the cell. "It's worth seeing you smile today, if only a little. Hold onto that feeling, Tee."

Even before the door closed, Maarani had trouble doing exactly that. Fleeting moments in the face of reality weren't enough for her.

A little after, she finally moved over to where Bastila and Utan had relocated, having given the two some privacy. "Thank you both for this. I know you're not going up there to defend her, Bastila, but knowing you're on side at all means so much."

"I know what she's going through all too well. Sometimes, it is smaller actions that have more impact than grand gestures. We can all agree that inflicting more suffering is not the way forward."

"I hope enough realize that the suffering being silent doesn't make it okay to ignore. Maybe it'll even get help to the victims that didn't escape the Luka Sene."

"If it comes to fruition, I'll be among the first to lend support. That said, I would rather do so by reaching out to the Luka Sene; ease their paranoia by assuring them that they are no longer alone in the struggle. Rather than villainizing them."

"They brought it on themselves. It's up to them to change." She at least managed to get that out without the usual venom that had built up around them in her mind. It wasn't going to recede until they backed off.

Utan grunted in thought after that. His silence was out of concern, and intent to observe Maarani's behaviour a little longer.

"That remains to be seen. Fear is a terrible adversary to overcome, and they have lived it for decades now."

"It can also be a necessary step towards enlightenment, if handled correctly. The Sith believe that fear leads directly into anger. But, fear is strongest in the unknown. Pushing back that unknown through curiosity, outreach and learning can be a far more potent force for change. I would see them overcome their fear through understanding."

"I'm not holding my breath. I've been on the receiving end of a lot of hateful, ignorant people's 'opinions' before. I'm not giving the benefit of the doubt to a police force I don't answer to. Not when it's Azera on the line."

Maarani left the matter at that to make her way up to the main floor. After numerous security checks, she reached the grand entrance hall. It looked uncomfortably busy with activity, given the high security measures on place. A crowd dense enough to slip away in. The fact that it was composed heavily of politicians and the like was that extra bit of distaste on top.

The overwhelming sensation of fakeness was nauseating until she concentrated on closing herself off to it. She had likely projected resentment in turn before then. At that point, she didn't care if it had any real effect on those around her.

Through the crowd, she managed to find her way to where Dana was waiting. From the look of things, she was in full observation, waiting for any hint of danger to take action. Probably to escape the stuffy atmosphere as much as Maarani herself.

"How's she doing?"

"A lot better than I am right about now. Somehow."

Maarani started looking around the room as well, keeping her arms close to herself. The unease was still prevalent. And while no-one was looking at her directly, everyone in the room knew who she was.

"Sith are trained to stand up to a challenge. And from what I've gathered, Azera is confident she can win this. That doesn't automatically translate to everyone else though, Teegs."

"No kidding. Took less than a minute for sharing her optimism to wear off. Starting to wonder if there's more than general resentment of the Republic and…"

In the middle of her idle observation, Maarani caught sight of some very familiar people. The tall, pointed ears, purple fur, and when the lead in the group turned, jackal faces.

Dana noticed seconds after her, and instantly grabbed her arm before she had a chance to storm off. "Don't. It's not worth it."

The glare she got back was fierce, but she only tightened her grip further. "If they're here, mingling with the others, they have diplomatic privilege. If you touch them, Jedi authority to be here goes out the window. They are not worth it."

Maarani's glare hardened. The somber feeling was gone in the wake of cold fury. She wrested her arm free of Dana's grip, keeping eye contact a little longer before moving directly towards the Zygerrian group.

All the while, both hands were clenching tightly. Holding back the urge to draw her lightsabers on the spot. She hated the very notion of having to hold back, and the fact that Dana was entirely correct even more. Protecting Azera wasn't worth dealing out some long overdue vindication.

As soon as she saw the pair approaching, Ashter straightened up with a prideful smirk. Her hand flaired out with the drink perched on top of her fingertips. Solidifying her position of power and effective invulnerability against the Twi'lek she towered over.

"Judging by that delightful expression of defiance on your face, you must be the infamous Tegama'Arani. The Dark Jedi of the Grand Republic. Daughter of Masadar, of whom we are all quite familiar."

She glanced back over her shoulder to K'Srin. One brief, potent reminder for her uncle to hold back, and let their plan continue uninterrupted. Wuthbrand was already on his way by then.

By then, Dana had caught up to Maarani. She couldn't stop her from lashing out in time to prevent an incident. The most she could do by then was try to keep her from reaching that mental state instead.

Maarani remained silent throughout, holding that fierce glare on Ashter's face. Her grin was supremely punchable, and unlike with Zimorr, one strike was liable to do a lot of damage.

Ashter remained undeterred. "I am quite impressed with you, Tegama. Truly. That a Twi'lek from such a simple village could rise to a level of raw power. It is not the true power that we Zygerrians wield, of course, but I can see that you could attain that kind of true power if you so desired. It is an absolute shame that you hold yourself back. You could be a tremendously effective leader amongst your kind."

Muscles tensed as Maarani clenched her hands again. Keeping them shut was her only way of keeping them down as well.

"You're going to leave. Now."

The grin widened, Ashter handing the drink off to her attendant with a particularly smug nod. "We are here as duly appointed neutral observers on behalf of the Sith Empire. We will be staying here for the duration of this trial. We will be informing Grand Moff Morgak and Darth Rak'Sakar of everything that transpires here this day. And we will do so without interruption or obstruction from any individual on this planet."

She took a small step back to lean herself down a little, closing the eye level between herself and Maarani. "You see, that is the difference between when a slave declares that something will happen, and when a master declares that something will happen. You are of course not a typical slave, but you are still slave to your morality, your idealism, your sense of duty. We have mastered such matters. What you declare is based on futile, imaginary happenings. What we declare is based on assured fact. It is no different than a typical slave declaring that they will be free, and I declare that they are not capable of making use of that freedom."

Maarani went tense, doing her absolute best to hide as much. Wordplay was far from her strong suit, and Ashter was extremely well versed in it.

She also wasn't willing to back down.

"How is being completely amoral a mastery of it? You don't master anything by ignoring it."

"When did I ever imply we ignore morality? My dear Tegama, we rewrote it according to our own standards. Morality is an abstract concept after all, anything written in a book is still the opinion of the writer. Laws are agreed on by society. Rules are defined by the whole. We reinterpreted the abstract, rewrote the book, laid down our own laws, established our rules. Thus, we have mastered morality as we see it. Yours is still merely a perspective. An opinion you choose to abide by. One others defined for you. You do not have control over it."

The smirk widened yet again. "And before you begin to preach the virtues of the Jedi, I have something else for you to consider."

She motioned with her hand for another in the party to move forward. A larger man that she had brought with her for the exact occasion she found herself in.

As soon as Maarani saw his face, her chest tightened further from a sharp breath. Nearly ten years later, and she still recognized him from the hellish night. The one who had broken into the family home and found her in the cupboard, only to walk away without a word. Her first experience with using the Force, though she obviously hadn't been aware of it at the time.

"You clearly seem to recognize him. And yet, he does not recognize you. Curious, as Kusrag was certain that there was a young daughter of a Jedi to be found at her home on the night he came. My good friend here recalls entering the house, and conducting a thorough search, right up until a peculiar gap in his memory was discovered."

Maarani drummed her fingers along her arm. She could tell Dana was growing impatient as well. "You didn't find a fifteen year old girl you wanted to steal from her home. How are you remotely in any kind of moral high ground for that?"

"The acquisition of slaves is not the issue. It is what followed that I am most curious to hear your opinion of. You see, by all accounts, the collection was a resounding success. Until of course other Hutts became involved in the affair, and had most of the acquired population returned to their villages. After that was done, however, over two dozen Zygerrians subsequently lost their lives to an attack. Led by a Jedi hailing from one of those very villages, while his wife was already concluding a peaceful resolution."

The hand gripping picked back up in intensity. Even through the empathic block, Maarani could feel Dana's shame growing at that moment, faint as it was through her own resurging rage.

"I do wonder why a Jedi of such supposed repute was allowed to remain in his position after such an absolute travesty. If revenge is not the Jedi way, then why did Masadar actively murder several of my kinsmen when he knew with absolute certainty that his own daughter was in safe hands the entire time? Where is the moral superiority in a Jedi Order that allows such barbaric people to hold positions of supposed power?"

Maarani released her hands. For one moment, she was ready to throw it all away to lash out at last. The moment passed with a faint exhale.

"Keep pushing, and find out. You can ask Dana here what happens when you push the Jedi that extra bit too far. Maybe you've heard of the Vahla."

It disturbed Dana deeply on many levels. The implication, the use of her past, the threat behind it. But against her growing disgust with the Zygerrians, and Ashter in particular, she was willing to let it slide that once and come to Maarani's aid.

"The Jedi of old made a mistake. They left the Vahla children alive, and to their own devices. The better solution would have been to take the children in, erase every bit of Vahla culture from their learning, and set them on a path towards something better. If Zygerrians approve of taking alien children from their homes, perhaps that should be the retribution dealt in kind. The systematic erasure of your culture, generation by generation."

Compared to whatever threats of violence Maarani could conjure up, that particular threat actually seemed to land with Ashter.

Dana took the victory for what it was, moving her hand up to grip Maarani's shoulder. "We should get you ready for the day ahead. It's going to be a long one, Teegs."

They moved back through the crowd with a very different sense about it. Now, the large gathering of people keeping to their own small circles provided a very comfortable barrier between them and the Zygerrians. Stuffy had become a way of escaping the moment.

Maarani's hands eventually went to her face as the anguish finally came to the surface. "Dana, I am so sorry-"

"I am too, believe me. Being put on the spot by someone that manipulative is awful. And it's in sapient behaviour to reach for any kind of means to not lose."

"That really doesn't excuse bringing up the Vahla like that."

"I'm equally complicit. But, we both know that it was an empty threat, and Ashter does as well. All we did was fight back in a way she didn't expect. The best thing we can do now is steer absolutely clear of her. Anything we need to discuss about what she dredged up can wait until this crisis is over, alright?"

Maarani did her best to nod calmly. She was still rattled from the experience. The restrained loathing had washed away, and she only felt ill inside. "Ashter? You know her name?"

"I know of her reputation, and that woman matches the holo-image I've seen. She's very well connected in the Zygerrian autocracy, and we've now experienced how she reached that status. Attacking her might have gone even worse than I first assumed."

"Yeah, well. That day will come eventually." Every breath was reluctant, but Maarani pushed on towards calming herself back down through the sickness and the loathing. "Do you know anything else about her? That story about being 'neutral observers' was so fake, she was rubbing it in."

"No, I didn't have reason to look at the report at the time. The Zygerrians backed off after Ryloth, we assumed they were going to stay away from Republic space." Dana took a cautionary glance around the room after that. "There's still time to get at that file and find out exactly who we're dealing with. If you really believe she's a threat."

"I know enough. Anything more, and I'll probably do something really stupid, however deserved." Maarani curled her lips in with bitterness. Conceding to a Zygerrian hurt her deeply, but it wasn't a total loss. "Maybe get the word out to someone else. Let someone with actual tact take a crack at getting her removed."

"If I knew anyone positioned correctly, I would. I'm with you on not trusting Republic Intelligence after what they've pulled. And every able Jedi is on watch here."

"Back to basics, then. Our small circle of trust, with barely any resources at our disposal, and enemies on all sides. Only now it's politicians, soulless slave drivers and blind military police. And I'm not allowed to hurt any of them."

Dana didn't remark further, initially to try and let Maarani work towards less violent means on her own. Her attention was soon taken by movement in the gathering around.

Senators and the like were gradually ushered towards the various hallways of the gallery beyond. Where all those that were sitting in person would observe the trial. Nearly four hundred of them, and a lot more participating through the holonet. A sharp rise from the emergency session a few nights ago.

"Not far off now. I expect they'll wait until the galleries are secured before doing anything else."

"Probably. Are you coming out there with me, or sticking to the Jedi section?"

Dana gave a bemused look while she shifted back to observing the gathering as it thinned out. One last chance to pick out any familiar faces before they went to ground.

"I still have mixed feelings about Azera. But in the end, I'm only another Jedi as far as the galaxy at large is concerned, so it doesn't matter. You need every name that carries weight out there, mine doesn't. I'd be better off watching your back until this is over."

The gathering continued to thin out bit by bit, with a large contingent of guards and droids arriving before the end. There to hold the entry points to the galleries, while the rest reinforced the prisoner route to the trial hall.

The gravity of the moment came back to Maarani in full force. That was her cue to return downstairs, and escort Azera up. She was far from ready, and her encounter with Ashter only emphasised her lack of confidence in what she would say. Even with others at her side, she felt that the whole day hinged on her in particular.

Compared to a short while earlier on first arriving, the cell block was almost uncomfortably quiet. The mixed guards were fast at attention, and those set to escort Azera up were waiting patiently right outside the cell, including Jayden. Bastila and Utan had gone above already it seemed.

Jayden herself was still talking with Azera, though stopped when she saw Maarani had arrived.

"Want a minute alone? They won't wait long."

After looking to Azera through the cell wall, Maarani shook her head. "We've said all we need to. Time to face destiny, or some other crappy line like that."

At Bastila's prompting, the cell door was opened to allow Azera to leave. She shared one more blind look with Maarani before moving to stand beside her, lifting her chin and straightening her posture for what dignity she could muster.

"We're not facing destiny; it doesn't exist. We're taking control of what lies ahead, as much as we feasibly can, Tee."

Maarani tilted her head about. Her sarcasm now felt stupid in the face of such confidence. More than that, it shed light on her inability to take Azera's fate as seriously as she needed to.

Any instinct or urge to be a comfort to her lover in that moment was put aside. No more inclination to make one last grand gesture to the Republic as a whole for petty reasons. Rather than putting her arm around Azera, she had to respect her solidarity by demonstrating the same.

The long walk through the high security corridor, a pair of guards every five metres, put more weight to her mind. More and more blasters and vibroswords as they moved deeper into the building. More faces watching their every move.

More rolls of the dice for the miniscule chance that someone would lose their nerve. That someone had slipped through the layers of security. That their next step would set off a concealed bomb.

Ashter had been an easy target for her paranoia. A reviled face to personify her hatred. In the long march, she was now increasingly aware that threats could come from anywhere at all, and have virtually no meaning behind them. All it took was one person with a gun and nothing to lose. Sufficient motivation was all that was needed to end her lover's life on the spot.

The tension in her chest reached its peak when the bulkheads leading to the sentencing hall ground open.

It was spacious, their destination being an open rotunda in the centre of a large pitfall, with only the heavily reinforced bridge connecting to it. Far from the chancellor's booth opposite them and above, where he would be presiding over the day. To either side, the many levels of seats now filled with senators from each of the represented worlds. The so-called voice of the people.

To her left as they moved through the doorway, Visas and many of the other Jedi were seated. Intended to be close at hand in case of a dangerous defendant looking to attack the chancellor and others. On that day, hopefully close enough to save Azera from any final retribution.

On the right sat those not from the Republic, which at that moment was composed of Ashter's group as well as the Luka Sene. While Maarani had negative feelings for both, there was an ironic assurance in knowing that the Zygerrians would be under the stern gaze of the Miraluka for the duration.

The walk across the bridge to the rotunda marked the height of the sick feeling in her gut. With all the others accompanying them a few steps behind, it was only her and Azera in that moment. Side by side. Every single action now counted for what was to follow. A year of learning and picking herself back up now hinged on the fate of another.

"All rise."

The chancellor's aide waited for the entire room to do so before continuing with the rehearsed preamble. Instructions and other assurances common to every trial.

When that was over, Chancellor Ollur himself stepped forward, his translation once again coming a few seconds after he spoke in his native Ithorian.

"Long have we awaited the capture and prosecution of a Sith Lord. For nearly nine years, we have all weathered this war together. Some have fallen aside, but long have I hoped that true action taken against an enemy leader would bring cause to reunite the Republic. To bring us closer to the proud history we should all uphold."

Maarani bit into her tongue to avoid gagging at the political twisting already put on display.

"But, as the fates would have it, we are now faced this day with a more complex case than we have all presumed. It has been put forward that Azera Vass, long known as Kiarna the White Terror, the Shadow Hand of the Empire, should be considered for rulings alternate to capital punishment. This is not unprecedented in the history of the Republic, thus it is with good grace that I put forward these offered alternatives to execution."

Azera was tense through her next breath. There was an uncomfortable feeling forming in her chest. A sensation of desire for death, coming from either side of the great hall, and oddly above her, both in front and behind. The sensation passed shortly after.

"The Jedi Order have put forward that Azera Vass should be turned over to their custody indefinitely, in the pursuit of intensive remedial therapy and training. That she may come to atone for her many crimes, and instead serve their pursuit of ending the threat of the Sith Empire. Such conduct will remain under the observation and approval of Republic authority."

It was the last part that made Maarani's skin crawl. That had never been part of what she had pushed for, and the very notion of senators and military officers getting any kind of say over Azera's future with the Jedi disgusted her further.

"The second alternative is presented by our trusted allies from the Miraluka people. The Luka Sene have concluded that Azera Vass is in fact a victim of a cranial deformity, and that this has formed the basis of her hyper-violent and warmongering behaviour. A request has been put forward that she be returned to the custody of her own people to undergo correction of this deformity, that she may be given the chance to rehabilitate free of this corrupting influence, and finally lead a normal life."

That was too much for Maarani to remain silent on. Speaking out then would cost her, but she had to make her point clear.

"Are you going to be presenting another who has been through their treatment? Everyone here deserves to know exactly the kind of 'normal life' that Azera will be given if she goes with the Luka Sene."

It took greater mental will to not lash out when her question was blatantly ignored by Ollur. A pure, defining example of the game being played. Her input was going to be ignored, while the proceedings carried on as everyone else intended.

"The third option remains as described. Azera Vass will be executed by means sufficient to end the life of a powerful Force user without causing undue suffering. The exact details of her execution will be withheld until the moment arrives to minimize the potential for interference or resistance. Her life will be terminated before the end of the day; remains will be cremated immediately to avoid tampering."

After that point, Maarani stopped listening. The words and sounds continued to reach her, but staring up towards the eyes of a man who had no intention of hearing what she had to say sapped the will to do anything but return that ignorance.

The more typical prattle passed her by, before the long list of actual crimes commenced. She wasn't able to let herself tune it out entirely. Names of both places and people did find their way to her conscious thoughts throughout. Many events she had heard of through broadcasts and general chatter in the most vague sense were now attributed to Azera herself.

The sinking feeling of the true visceral reality of the woman she had become attached to being brought to the front. It was one thing to acknowledge that she had a very bloodsoaked past by reputation, and quite another to have actual numbers attached to that reputation.

Throughout, she pondered how many shady, or outright illegal orders that Ollur and the various military leaders had approved. Crimes of their own in a different context, but still just as numerous, and vile.

The further debates continued in much the same way. Bastila's condemnation of the Luka Sene option, followed by an unexpected veer into her harsh reminder of the past. How Revan had come to save the Republic twice over, and that he had come to be venerated for it. All in spite of the widespread damage he had done as a Sith.

More witnesses and testimonies for all three arguments followed from there, drawing further into the day. Maarani continued withdrawing back into herself, the disillusion growing stronger with every hour.

What finally cut through the mental haze was a direct address to Azera. After being snubbed at the onset, she had been left with the deep concern that Azera would be denied her chance to speak.

In keeping with that, she remained silent as well. And with every bit of will available to her, projected that same sensation across the room.

Azera's posture relaxed, then took on a much more confident stance. Her patience and careful listening now culminated in the next few minutes for her. The true make-or-break moment of her future.

"I used to look upon my past actions with pride. With revelry. I enjoyed inflicting harm, wielding power, laying the groundwork for an Empire that I would inherit the throne to. I used to take pleasure in laying Jedi low, in cutting down Republic soldiers, and making local governers and overseers squirm as their own little dominions were brought to Imperial heel."

Her mangled lips twisted up into a smirk.

"It becomes hard to find distinction between the lives I have taken, and the lives lost to the Republic's pursuit of corrupt unification. Far beyond the bloodbath of this cycle of war between the light and the dark, the constant battles of Sith and Jedi. The scum in all walks of life that seek to take advantage of those with less. Individuals, groups, corporations, entire planets. That you think you can judge me a war criminal while millions of people starve in the name of benefiting mere thousands a rich meal is laughable. That is the true death toll of this galaxy."

She could feel the strain from Maarani to hold the silence, reaching a hand out to grasp hers lightly in return. It was a simple impulse, but amongst so many, it was bound to be taxing.

"But none of you want to look inward. You want a scapegoat, a figurehead to blame. A face of the enemy to which you can direct all your vitriol and self-loathing towards. To own up to your own mistakes, to enact change that does not directly benefit you in the immediate is beyond what any of you have the will to pursue. I am not limited by such selfish, destructive notions. There are those out there who believe that the Republic can be saved, that the war can be ended through peace, rather than total annihilation of those who do not agree."

At that, Azera took in her deep breath for the final part. She had to see it through to the end, and that entailed giving whatever she could to Maarani for that last minute of silence.

"You are welcome to execute me. To leave me a silent, empty husk. I do not begrudge that fate. But let me live, and you will set in motion a path that may see your beloved crumbling Republic saved from the brink of collapse. Not to reform under the guise of a new Empire, but in conjunction with it. A galaxy that will be far better served through open understanding and exchange, not the exploitation of the weak by the strong. I still seek to rule the Empire, but I will not rule the galaxy. I am not interested in exaltation, in forgiveness, in atonement."

Her head tilted higher as she settled on the closing point. The aforementioned 'memorable tagline' that she had described to Maarani hours earlier.

"I don't need redemption. I have purpose. Kill me, or let me end the war swiftly. The decision is yours, citizens and representatives of the Republic."

Her hand tightened around Maarani's, keeping her steady when she released the mental influence. Anything to keep their manipulation from being consciously discovered, and upsetting their plan at its most crucial moment.

While some had clearly noticed the odd feeling, none voiced concern. No objections, no outcry. Whether it would actually mean anything would become clear in the next few minutes. Possibly the worst wait of the entire day.

The moment came as Ollur stood back up to begin his final address. "If there are no further testimonies to be heard, we will now proceed to the vote. Consider all that has been said rigorously. Consider the will of the people we all stand to represent. And above all, the ideals and values of the Galactic Republic that we are sworn to uphold. The three choices will stand, place your vote when ready."

In the long silence, Maarani directed her single eye across the rows of senators, until she finally tracked down Iyep. Even from that distance, she could tell when they made eye contact. A little more focus tuned her into what Iyep was feeling.

An initial sense of composure, hiding dread under the surface. A little later, as she lifted her hand, a definite impulse to vote for the Jedi option, followed by a knowing nod, and a feeling of capitulation.

Maarani turned on the spot after that, looking to the array of neutral groups. There was definite tension amongst the Jedi, Sereti having left her seat to pace. Visas looked calm as ever, as did Vaner surprisingly.

On the other side, she could feel the smugness radiating out from Ashter, something that made her feel very uneasy. None of the options left even a remote chance of Azera being returned to the Empire, especially not after the open declaration of wanting to change it. She had no valid reason to be amused by the proceedings.

There was less smugness and more self-assuredness from the Luka Sene. Their unflinching belief that the majority would pick the 'middle' option of the two. It wasn't as worrying as the smugness, but it was still sickening.

In the middle of it all, there was a gradual shift in the Force itself. She couldn't pinpoint a location, only a mild sensation of darkness. Enough for her to turn back to Azera for one last telepathic exchange.

You feel it?

Azera nodded very lightly, her own perception still hampered by the nullifying cuffs, but not enough to block out her awareness in full. She couldn't trace an exact location just yet either.

The Force moves darkly when there is intent to kill, Tee. Some of these senators want me dead.

Maarani took another look around. So many races, so many worlds represented. How many of them were victims of the Empire, of Kiarna's wrath? How many were ready to submit to the Empire, to secretly aid the enemy after decades of dissatisfaction with the Republic? How many were on the verge of secession, following in the footsteps of Mirial, and Onderon before?

The voting came to a close. Done quickly and concisely. No delays for further debates, or real, genuine consideration. A fast and easy trial, just as the chancellor wanted. No chance for major attacks on his watch.

Following some private words to his assistants, he moved forward once again to announce the result.

Directly above him, Wuthbrand began moving into position from his secure hiding place, gesturing across the hall to where the two Sith agents were also readying themselves.

"The past decade has been defined by war. By darkness. We have suffered much, lost much. But we have endured, and will continue to do so until we emerge on the other side, triumphant."

Maarani turned around for a second look at those gathered, being entirely uninterested with the blustering.

Reaghan was speaking to some of the other Luka Sene on the far side from the Zygerrians, making subtle gestures around the room. And in her direction. Possibly finalizing a plan to snatch Azera away as soon as the verdict came in.

Ashter and her people looked unfazed, likely having decided not to pay attention to the others. From that distance, she appeared to be watching Ollur during his long-winded ramble.

On the other side, the tense observation from the Jedi had changed into concerned instructions given out by Visas and Bastila.

"...and as we draw closer to the new age of peace, we must remain united in spite of our differences, numerous as they are. It is the Empire that would see us torn down because of our diversity and openness…"

At that moment, the dark sensation vanished from the hall. As if someone had cupped it away. Deliberately hidden their intentions.

Maarani looked to the guards still accompanying them, motioning for alert, then looked right back to Azera.

"Something's wrong. Keep your head down when it happens."

The moment of truth came right after that. The preamble to the actual announcement of the vote. When she would know for certain if the Republic was still worth saving, worth giving a damn about. Or if it deserved to descend straight into the fiery hell they were all destined for.

"It is with great humility that I present the majority ruling of the Republic. The determination of this trial. Azera Vass of Dakkan, of the Miraluka people, it is the decision of this Senate that you be sentenced to-"

A blaster shot to his left shoulder destroyed Ollur's translator unit while simultaneously knocking him to the floor.

The abruptness of the attack caught everyone out. A volley of follow-up shots came immediately after, instantly killing the two personal guards at his side, as well as wounding his aides considerably.

It took a couple of seconds for Maarani to process what was happening. Her first reaction once capable again was to spin around in search of the attackers. Instead, her eyes were drawn lower. The Zygerrians had broken from their passive observation to beat down the Luka Sene and make a hasty escape, confirming their involvement in whatever was happening.

The Jedi were still in their observation room, from the look of it trapped inside by a lockdown. Unable to come out and provide further protection.

The moments of reflex passed, her mind catching up to the present. In the time it took for her to reach to the lightsabers, another volley of shots from an area metres above the entryway rained down around her. The guards assigned to Azera herself were cut down without mercy. The metallic stench of armor-piercing fire was rife around her.

For whatever reason, she had been spared in the volley that had so clearly been designed to set Azera free. She didn't have time to think, nor the inclination to question her good fortune. Her fingers slipped down along the lightsabers, twisting around as they gripped on, pulling both free from her belt to swing them back behind her head. They activated together, narrowly avoiding her lekku as she prepared to swing.

Above where emergency staff were seeing to Ollur's wounds, Wuthbrand brought his sniper to bear. While trimming the scope to a low zoom, he closed his eyes for a hushed prayer. The only time he dared to speak outside of his oath of silence.

"Gods above, avert your eyes from the sin I must commit."

Throughout it all, Azera was locked in silence of her own. She was seeing double in effect. A woman moving into frame as a gun was trained on her. Blaster fire from above, a rustle in the bushes. The woman swinging her lightsabers in the direction of that distraction.

All she could think about were her constant warnings to Maarani about the visions being interpretive. Her hands were bound in more ways than one, leaving her impaired. Unable to stop both lightsabers from leaving her hands as they span away, arcing up towards the shooters. Unable to deflect the next shot she knew had to be coming.

After his prayer, Wuthbrand brought the sniper into position, staring right down the scope at Maarani. Lined up for a centre of mass shot, with the high yield set to sever her spine completely.

He pulled the trigger, flinched from the kick back while blinking at the flash, then immediately made for his escape.

The second wave of shock hit Maarani. An impulse had made her twist back around after throwing the lightsabers, which had either found their mark, or landed back on the walkway as they fell.

Again, there was a harsh metallic smell in the air, though it was now mixed with the equally unpleasant scent of charred flesh.

Slowly, she looked down. Exactly as feared, there was a charred wound between her breasts. And yet, despite everything she could make sense of in that moment, the pain was minimal. A little more focus told her that the wound itself wasn't even that deep. Far too weak for any blaster shot she had experienced in the past.

It took her a second longer to process that Azera was standing right in front of her. She had grabbed onto the collar of her jacket, and was now staring at her in that Miraluka way.

Until blood began to seep from her mangled lips.

She gulped, trying to speak, but there was no movement of air. Not with the hole in her spine and throat, the brunt of the sniper shot having gone through the base of her neck and just below her collarbones. Shortly after, her muscles gave out from lack of connection to the brain.

Somewhere in Maarani's mind, the build up of resentment, distrust and hatred boiled over. Restraint, humility, and a willingness to do good all evaporated. Her self-control simply snapped.

"Azera. Azera!"

She was entirely consumed by what was reaching her. Hands and arms bloodied by the lack of cauterization in the wound as she cradled Azera's limp body to the ground. Completely oblivious to the Jedi and medics rushing over to her at last.

For the immediate timeframe, the crisis around her no longer existed in her mind.

"Azera!"